Ficlets and Snapshots
by lurkingwhump
Summary: A collection of shorter ficlets that I've posted on my Tumbrl account but not here. Each chapter is an individual fic or snapshot. Mostly angst and hurt/comfort, although there might be some fluff too in future chapters. Jeller.
1. A Moment

This fic was written before any of the s4 eps had aired. Set sometime during s4.

* * *

**A Moment**

The effects of the ZIP-poisoning were becoming more acute as time progressed. They had made some progress in searching for the cure, but not without a cost: Jane had started to get episodes of debilitating headaches that drove even her to her knees more and more frequently. Regular painkillers no longer worked, all she could do when the headache hit was to try stay very still and hope it would be short episode and not a couple of hours like the worst ones.

This time, it had hit her at home. It was the middle of the day, but the blinds were drawn and their bedroom was dark. Jane was lying on the bed, her head on Kurt's chest as he leaned against the headboard with her nestled in his arms.

Her head felt like someone was trying to saw her skull in half like a piece of timber. She tried to focus on Kurt's soothing touch as he ran his hand through her hair and placed the occasional kiss on the top of her head. Jane couldn't help an involuntary groan from escaping as another strong jolt of pain stole her breath. She pressed herself even deeper into Kurt's side and felt him tighten his arm around her back reassuringly.

"Jane," he whispered after a moment, his voice laced with concern.

She opened her eyes slowly and turned her head slightly so she could see him. "Hmm?"

Kurt locked eyes with her as he caressed her cheek tenderly. "Are you sure you wouldn't take the Oxycontin?" His tone was soft and almost pleading.

His worried look tore at her heart. The opiate was the only painkiller that seemed to ease Jane's pain at times. She closed her eyes for a moment, before casting another loving look at Kurt and speaking just as softly. "No. It makes me feel nauseous. And besides, this will probably pass before it takes effect."

Her reply was candid, but as the symptoms progressed they had noticed there was no sense in hiding things. Kurt had always been the more open one in their relationship emotionally but with no telling how much time they had left together, Jane had realized there was no sense in trying to hide things. They needed each other, now more than ever, to fight this.

Kurt kissed her forehead, murmuring his reply against her. "Okay. I just hate seeing you in pain...I love you."

"I love you, too." She lay her head back on his chest, trembling as the pain assaulted her again. "Just hold me."

Jane felt Kurt pull her flush against him, his arms cradling her protectively.

"I've got you. Close your eyes, my love….I've got you."

Gradually the pain eased, exhaustion engulfed Jane's body and she fell asleep, soothed by Kurt's touch and the sound of his steady heartbeat.


	2. Scared

A short and angsty Jeller ficlet that was born out of an image that buried itself in my mind until I wrote this. Set sometime during s3. Originally written as two parts but combined here. Thanks again to my beta.

* * *

**Scared**

Jane was scared. Despite all the things she and Kurt had faced over the years, alone or together, she had never been this scared. She was afraid she was losing him. As if on cue, Kurt moaned faintly, his cheek pillowed on her thigh as he lay on the floor next to her, nearly unconscious.

The men who were holding them had savagely beaten Kurt, for what had felt like hours to Jane. She had begged for them to stop as she watched, but her pleas had gone unanswered. Finally, they had released Kurt's hands from the hook he'd been hanging on and dragged him into an old storage room, before unceremoniously dumping him on the floor and throwing Jane in there with him.

She looked down at him again as she kept running her hand through his hair gently, hoping to soothe him.

"Shhh…try not move. Just lie still," she whispered to him, tears brimming her eyes. She felt so helpless at that moment as she looked down at her husband.

Kurt's cheek was covered in blood, courtesy of the large cut he had above his eyebrow. His eye was swollen shut, a large bruise already forming on his cheek. But those were still minor injuries. What worried Jane the most was his torso and back. She could hear the rasp in his breaths, and feel the shallow breathing as he lay there. When she had carefully lifted his shirt, she had seen the beginnings of the bruising around his kidneys and his stomach. Running her hand gently over Kurt's stomach, he had cried out in pain at the slightest pressure. "I'm sorry, Kurt. I had to look," she had apologized softly and pressed a loving kiss to his temple.

She knew he was bleeding internally. And if he didn't get to a hospital soon, there was a risk he would die in her arms. Kurt was fading away, she could feel it. His skin was getting clammy and Jane could feel his rapid heartbeat under her fingers as she rested them on the pulse point of his neck.

She had managed to activate the new experimental tracker when the men had thrown them into this makeshift cell. She only hoped it worked, and that the team would be able to find them in time.

"Please, hold on, my love," she murmured, the tears spilling onto her cheeks now. "The team will be here soon," she forced herself to go on, while silently praying that it was true. It would have to be. She couldn't lose Kurt.

* * *

Listening carefully, Jane couldn't hear any movement from the outside. The only thing she heard was Kurt's labored breathing. Most of the men holding them must have left the building.

With every passing moment, her fear for Kurt increased. _"Where is the team? Please, let the tracker work."_

She ran a hand gently over Kurt's cheek, her touch causing him to open his eyes slowly. She noticed his face was covered in cold sweat.

His voice was a weak, confused whisper. "Jane…"

Fear squeezed Jane's heart when she heard his voice. It was so brittle.

Wiping away her tears, she swallowed the lump in her throat and spoke to him tenderly. "I'm right here, Kurt. I'm here." Wanting to reassure him, she reached behind his back and pulled him into her lap as carefully as she could. Still, a moan escaped his lips.

"I'm sorry. I know it hurts," she whispered to him and pressed her lips to his forehead in a silent apology, while cradling him in her arms. He pressed his cheek into the crook of her neck, releasing a shuddering, pained whimper. Jane sheltered Kurt against her while speaking softly to him. "Shh..Stay still. It's going to be okay. Help's on the way and we'll get you to a hospital. Just stay still."

A little while later, Jane heard noises from outside the room and automatically tightened her arms around Kurt; her muscles tensed as she prepared to fight. She would not let them hurt him again, no matter what the odds or consequences.

But then, she heard a familiar voice.

"Weller! Jane!"

It was Zapata. Relief filled her mind and she relaxed a fraction, kissing Kurt's brow lightly before calling out to their friends.

"Tasha! In here!"

Soon, she heard the rhythmic pounding as the people on the other side worked to break down the door. It gave away with a resounding crack, and Tasha stepped in with her weapon drawn.

Tasha surveyed the room, quickly making sure there were no threats. "Jane, are you okay?"

Jane cast a distraught look at her friend. She heard the fearful tremor in her own voice as she spoke. "Get an ambulance, now. It's Kurt…" "_Please, help him," _her mind wanted to scream. She saw Tasha's features soften at first as she took in Kurt's condition, but then Tasha balled her fist, her expression hardening and determination taking over as turned on her heels and spoke urgently into her comms.

As Tasha left, Jane turned her attention back to the man she loved, cradled against her. Kurt's eyes were closed and you might think he was asleep, if not for his brow furrowed in pain and the perspiration on his skin glistening in the faint light of the room. Jane caressed his cheek tenderly, needing the physical contact, needing to reassure herself he was still with her. "Stay with me," she pleaded in a whisper.

Waiting for the ambulance felt like hours to Jane, although she knew it couldn't have been longer than 10 minutes at the most. As the EMTs entered Jane gingerly lay Kurt on the ground so that they could examine him. He barely reacted as the they tried to talk to him. As one of the medics started to ask Jane questions about his medical history and about what had happened, the other one leaned over Kurt, pressing his hands to Kurt's sides. Kurt wailed at the pressure and tried to move his arm to swing away the source of pain. Jane couldn't help giving the man a quick glare, even though she knew everything the medic did was necessary. But she was afraid for Kurt and felt she was ready to do anything to ease his suffering.

She answered the questions the best she could, while she watched them cut off his shirt and his jeans, leaving him only in his boxers. Jane couldn't bite back the sob that escaped as she saw the extent of the bruising on his torso.

Next, the medic explained to Jane that with Kurt being semi- conscious and not really responding to questions they couldn't rule out possible spinal injuries, so they had to immobilize him for the transport to the hospital. She watched them work carefully but efficiently as they put him on a backboard and put a C-collar on him, followed by an oxygen mask on his face.

When the medics lifted Kurt on the gurney, Jane woke up from her trance. "Wait, please," she asked the other EMT quietly and took a step towards Kurt. The medic gave her a compassionate smile and nodded. His tone was understanding as he spoke.

"Go ahead. But don't take too long. The sooner we get him to the trauma center, the better."

Jane approached Kurt and gently took his hand into hers. She leaned in and spoke softly, only to him.

"Kurt..."

He opened his eyes slowly to her voice, his look a mix of pain and distress.

She caressed his hand he held in hers, hoping her touch would offer him some comfort. "Kurt, you're going to be okay. I'll see you in the hospital." She kissed his forehead tenderly and whispered a hushed "I love you" against him before rising up.

She cast a thankful look at the EMT. "Thank you," she said with a shuddering breath and followed them as they wheeled Kurt to the ambulance waiting outside.

* * *

It had taken them another fifteen minutes to clear the scene before Reade offered to take Jane to the hospital and Tasha headed back to the NYO. Jane was huddled in the front passenger seat of the SVU, staring outside, but not seeing the view. The events of the last few hours kept playing over and over in her head.

She saw Kurt hanging there, completely at the mercy of the blows of their captors. She heard his groans as the knuckle dusters hit his stomach and his long wail as the punches made contact with what must have been an injured area. She remembered the cruel grin one of the men gave her as she struggled against her own bonds, nearly screaming in desperation for them to stop as she saw Kurt getting weaker. _"Stop! Please stop hurting him! You'll kill him!"_ She could feel the tears on her cheeks now, just as she had then as her pleas had gone unanswered and she had had to watch them continue beating Kurt. She heard his weak moans of pain from when he lay cradled against her. She saw the massive bruising on Kurt as they had cut away his clothes, and the blood on his face.

That memory made Jane look at herself. Her gray shirt had a large bloodstain on her chest where Kurt had leaned into her, the blood from his headwound marking her. She looked at her hands, realizing they were bloody too. She let out a strangled sound, something between a sob and a whimper.

"Jane," she heard Reade's reassuring voice, "he's going to be okay. He's already in the hospital. He's in good hands."

A terrible realization dawned Jane. "_Oh God, I moved him"_ She cast a fretful look at Reade, feeling the panic wrap around her. "I moved him, Reade. I moved him when I took him into my arms! The medics put him on a backboard! What if I made Kurt's injuries worse, what if I –."

"Jane," Reade stopped her from continuing by laying his hand on her thigh and giving it a squeeze. " You held his hand while he was on the board, right?"

"Yeah."

"Did you feel or see him move his fingers?"

"Yeah, he…he squeezed my hand right before they took him into the ambulance."

"See, that's a good sign." Reade gave her a comforting smile. "He's in good hands, Jane. We're almost at the hospital."

* * *

Jane was sitting by Kurt's bedside, holding his hand in hers as he slept. It had been a few hours since she had seen him last, so to hold his hand again offered her a small measure of comfort. They had just wheeled him into the room not 20 minutes before, and told her that he should start coming to within the hour. She had spoken to the doctor treating him and he had assured her that Kurt did not have any spinal injuries, and he would eventually make a full recovery, although it might take some time.

She looked at him now, still not being able to let got of the worry she felt. He seemed to be resting comfortably, the creases of pain were gone from his forehead. They had cleaned the blood off his face, the cut close to his eyebrow covered in butterfly strips. His cheek was bruised and the doctor had said that Kurt also had a concussion as a result of the punch to the head. Jane let her eyes travel down his body, most of it covered by the thin hospital blanket. He had multiple broken ribs and the beating had bruised his lung, but that should heal on its own. Thankfully, the ribs hadn't punctured his lung. But, that was a small blessing considering the damage that _had_ been done. He had a drain attached, helping to drain the fluid and blood from his abdomen. They had done an exploratory laparotomy on him soon after he got to the hospital to discover the source of the bleeding in his abdomen. It had turned out to be lacerations in his liver and his spleen. The bruising on his back that Jane had seen was caused by a bruised kidney. The doctor was optimistic that with sufficient rest it should heal on its own, but they needed to monitor him closely for a few days.

Jane felt almost overwhelmed by the worry and she could feel exhaustion creeping in. She leaned her forehead into her hand, rubbing her eyes and letting out a deep sigh. Suddenly, she felt Kurt's fingers twitch in her hand. She got up and squeezed his hand, leaning closer to him.

"Kurt…Kurt, can you open your eyes for me," she coaxed softly. "Open your eyes."

After a moment, he tiredly opened them.

"Hey…"Jane's tone was tender, the emotion clear in it.

In a few seconds she saw a flash of fear in Kurt's eyes and noticed he was getting distressed. The doctor had said it was normal after surgery, but still it squeezed her heart painfully.

She ran her hand through his hair soothingly. "Shh. You're in a hospital. It's okay. You just got out of surgery." Soon her voice and touches calmed him and Jane felt him relax into the pillows again.

Jane caressed his arm tenderly for a while, coming to grips with the situation. The need to touch him and to reassure herself won out and she got up, kissing his cheek. She leaned her forehead against his, trying to collect herself but failing. She felt the tears brimming her eyes and heard her own voice quiver, as she looked into his and spoke. "You really scared me this time, Kurt. I thought I lost you."

The look in his eyes was tired but his meaning was sincere as he gave her a tiny smile. "Sorry,"he spoke quietly, his voice rough from the intubation.

Jane sat down again, continuing to caress his forehead and run her hand through his hair, needing to convince herself he was there and he was alive. She gave him another teary smile before gingerly laying her cheek on his chest and closing her eyes. She drew in a rugged breath as she heard his heartbeat, willing herself to keep the tears at bay "_He's still here."_

Soon, she felt Kurt's fingers slowly trace the nape of her neck: it was his way of calming her. Still, even when groggy from surgery he could read her and sense her unease. He didn't say anything, using his touch instead. Jane relaxed against him as his hand tangled in her hair, maintaining the contact.

They lay there, both quiet and content to let time pass. It was sometime later that Jane raised her head and spoke in a tender tone.

"What do you say about taking a few days off after this? God knows you've earned it…. You could teach me how to fish."

He gave her a tired, lopsided smile. "Yeah, we can do that. Any idea where you'd want to go?"

"I'll leave that up to you. Do you think we could ask Allie if we can take Bethany with us? I'd love for it to be just the three of us, Kurt."

Kurt's eyes were already closed when he mumbled his reply. "Whatever you want, Jane."


	3. A Quiet Morning

Hi guys!

This little plot bunny kept hopping around in my brain until I caught it and wrote down what it was saying. Nothing but a fluffy Jeller snapshot. Enjoy! S4 but post 4x12.

* * *

**A Quiet Morning**

The first thing Jane noticed was the feeling of warmth on her shoulder as she made her way back to wakefulness. A small sliver of sunlight had made its way through a tiny gap in the curtains and was now warming her.

It must be closer to noon, she figured. It had been another grueling and long day for the team. It had been past three in the morning before she and Kurt had made it home. They had been tracking some of Madeline's hired muscle, hoping to get a hint of what her next move would be. Muscle was the right word. Why couldn't they just give up on occasion, instead of always putting up a fight?

Jane wasn't hurt, but she had her share of bruises and her muscles ached. She still wasn't as fit as she had been before the ZIP almost killed her. She was frustrated, but Kurt had reassured her that she'd regain her strength; it would just take time and she needed to be patient.

After the warming sun, she became aware of Kurt's touch. His fingertips were gently caressing the nape of her neck as he held her close. His other hand was softly tracing the tattoos of her side and her lower back.

"Morning." Kurt whispered, as he noticed she was awake.

"Morning," she mumbled against him, wincing as she moved and her aching muscles protested.

His hand stilled. "Did I hurt you?" He asked, his tone concerned.

"No, just my muscles acting up." she spoke into his chest, snuggling closer. "Please keep going."

"Okay," he murmured into her hair, his fingers resuming their soothing pattern on the back of her neck.

With his tender touches, Jane was starting to fall back asleep again. She couldn't remember the last time she had felt this content and relaxed. Kurt's other hand was running slowly up and down her back, his loving caress almost ticklish, but not quite. Instead, it made her melt into his touch, like she was boneless. She moaned contentedly as he started to gently massage muscles at the base of her skull.

She nuzzled him, sinking deeper into his embrace. "I don't want to get up today."

Kurt's lips brushed her temple. "You don't have to if you don't want to. It's Saturday today and we have the day off."

She wrapped her arm across him lazily and entwined her legs with his. "Mmmhhh, good. I don't want to lose my pillow."

He chuckled at that, pressing a kiss into her hair. "You're going to need to eat at some point."

"Yeah, but not yet," she mumbled sleepily.

"No, not yet." He confirmed, perfectly content with where he was, in their bed and holding his wife in his arms.


	4. Peace and Quiet

Hey!

This here was my contribution to the holidayblindspot project. And believe it or not, I actually managed to write a piece of fluff without any angst or whump in it. Surprised myself too!

I figured I would post it now. We all deserve some fluff in the midst of this damn virus that has the world in its grip.

Once again, thank you my dear beta for taking a look at this and suggesting some small improvements.

* * *

**Peace and Quiet**

A few snowflakes slowly drifted down from the moonlit sky, no other sound except the crunching of the snow under their boots as Jane and Kurt walked up a small forest path. Jane squeezed Kurt's gloved hand in her own, taking a step towards him when he tugged her closer. For the longest time in ages, she felt relaxed and at peace.

After a hectic few months, they had finally made it to the cabin upstate. Jane didn't know how Kurt had managed to book the cabin for them at the peak of the holiday season, but she didn't care. They were here, and this time there were no cases to worry about. They weren't expected to return to the NYO for another week.

She had talked Kurt into going for a walk in the forest after dinner, although the sun had already set. She loved the place; it was so different from the metropolitan area. Most of the trees were spruces and pine trees, their branches hanging low from the weight of the snow, with only a few trunks of deciduous trees among them.

Jane stopped as they reached the edge of a small clearing. She smiled, burrowing herself into Kurt's warmth as his arms encircled her protectively and he rested his chin on her shoulder for a moment before touching his lips to her cheek. Looking around in wonder, she took in the scenery around her: it was dark, but the bright full moon made the large, snowy spruces glitter. And the snow! Jane didn't think she had ever seen anything so beautiful: all around them was a shimmering blanket of snow, completely undisturbed.

She watched her breath form puffs in the air as she exhaled, before leaning her head against Kurt's shoulder, looking up at the sky.

"It's beautiful," she said, her voice filled with awe. There were no city lights for dozens of miles, no light pollution, so the stars and the Milky Way were bright, only bested by the light cast by the moon.

"Yeah, it is." Kurt tightened his arms around her. "I knew you'd love it. Which is why I got the cabin for us," he whispered softly. "And this time it _is _just us."

Jane turned around and gazed into Kurt's eyes. His look was full of adoration and warmth as he gave her the crooked smile she loved so much. She put her arms around his neck, and leaned closer, giving him a slow and sweet kiss. "Yeah. No distractions, no work: just like you promised me."

Kurt pulled her fully back into his embrace, hugging her close. She nuzzled the crook of his neck, breathing in the scent that was him. They stood there, locked in the embrace, simply enjoying the quiet moment.

"I love you, Jane." Kurt finally spoke, his voice gentle but yet adamant.

"I love you, too," she murmured in reply, feeling safe and loved in her husband's arms.

As much as she loved the outdoors, and the view there, no amount of clothes could keep the winter's chill out forever. The temperature was 8°F after all.

Noticing her shivering, Kurt pulled back and regarded her with a critical eye, raising an eyebrow. "How about we head back inside, hmm? Light the fireplace and make some hot chocolate to ward off that chill? How does that sound?"

"Sounds perfect. Lead the way."

With that Kurt tucked her into his side, kissing her hair as they turned and started to make their way back to the cabin.


	5. Here

We have a date for season 5. Yay! Granted, I am slightly apprehensive, but as long as Jeller survive, I can live with it.

This little ficlet was inspired by a post by kate-dammit-run on Tumblr about the significance of Jeller's hand-over-heart gesture. Thank you to Indelible Evidence for helping me coax out my muse and for my beta for proofreading this. Glove you!

So, this little moment in time take place the evening following the s4 ending drone strike. Please let me know what you think.

* * *

**Here**

Kurt winced as he removed his shirt and pulled on a t-shirt, getting ready for bed. He could hear Jane in the bathroom, water running in the sink. He folded his clothes away, before opening the covers of the bed. He sat down on the edge of the bed, briefly contemplating the events of the day.

They were lucky to be alive. Thanks to a last-minute warning, he and the other members of the team had narrowly escaped a drone strike to the old mining tunnels under the cabin right before the missiles hit. Battered and bruised, beyond a couple of sprains and broken ribs they had escaped major injuries. But as the dust settled, he had no idea where Jane was, or if she was even alive. The more time passed, the more frantic he got, as they dug themselves out; not because he was claustrophobic, but because he was afraid that he had lost her, for good this time. He couldn't even describe the relief that washed over him when he hugged Jane close and felt her lips against his.

So now they were in another safehouse that Ice Cream had agreed to arrange for them. He and Jane had settled in the only bedroom, while the rest of their team was bunked in the living room and kitchen.

Kurt slipped under the covers, just setting the alarm on his phone, when Jane emerged from the bathroom. He could see the strain of the day on her. Her shoulders were hunched, her face taut with worry and exhaustion. She busied herself with putting her clothes away, before sitting on the edge of the bed with her back to him and taking off her socks.

"Come here." Kurt said with a smile and reached out to wrap his arm lightly around her waist to tug her closer.

Jane lay down and scooted closer to him, as she always did when he did that. She put her cheek on his chest, closing her eyes. But he could tell something was bothering her. She seemed tense. It was almost as if she was avoiding looking at him.

He cupped her cheek, his fingertips stroking her neck, before he tilted up her chin so he could see her better. "Jane, what is it?

She swallowed thickly and lifted her head, her eyes meeting his. She didn't say anything, merely looked at him and placed her open hand on his heart. And she didn't have to, he _knew_. Her eyes were wide, the look in them reflecting her pain and the fear he knew was still there. He had felt that same fear squeezing at his own heart.

Kurt saw her lower lip quivering, and the glistening sadness in her eyes. He sat up and pulled her into a long, tender kiss. "I'm here," he reassured her softly, leaning his forehead against hers. Jane nodded; her eyes squeezed shut tightly as she released a shuddering breath.

"Come on, let's try to get some sleep." Kurt settled back down, cocooning Jane in his arms as she sought solace in his embrace, burying her face against the crook of his neck.

"Shh…" He shushed her gently, feeling her ragged breaths against his skin as she fought to keep the tears away. He pressed his lips into her temple, tightening his arms around her. "It's okay…everything's gonna be okay."


	6. Remorse

Another little s4 ficlet, that has taken me waaayyy too long to write. Thanks to eblonde and Indelible Evidence and my dear beta for listening as I hummed and hawed with this one, trying to get things right. Thank you also for the proofread. You guys are great!

This fic is slightly canon divergent for 4x09. Instead of ambushing Kurt as he gets home, Shepherd is at the address that Jane gave them. Shepherd dies in a shootout that ensues. Instead of going home, Kurt goes to the hospital to take Jane home.

Please let me know what you guys think.

**Remorse**

Jane was sitting on the exam table, the chill of the room penetrating the thin hospital gown she was wearing in addition to her underwear. Her clothes were on a chair by the door, but at that moment even that distance felt like miles. Sighing, she leaned her head against her arms. She was exhausted, mentally more so than physically. Yes, she was achy from the fight and the bruised ribs caused by it, and the fever she had developed during her little journey through her mind was still present but the battle in her brain had left her drained.

Hearing the door open, she looked up.

"Kurt!" His name escaped her in an exclamation. She had been expecting one of the nurses, a member of her security detail or even Rich, but Kurt's entry caught her by surprise.

"Hey," he greeted her warmly as he walked up to her, taking her hand in his.

Jane took a few seconds to look at him: he was no longer wearing his body armor, only the ever-present holster on his hip. She noticed some dark stains on his jeans. _Blood._ She gasped, looking at him in alarm.

"Kurt, are you injured? What–"

He squeezed her hand in reassurance. "It's okay. I'm fine, it's not my blood. It's…" He glanced away briefly, sighing. "It's Shepherd's."

"What happened?" Jane asked, although she suspected she already knew.

"She was at the address that you gave us, but she didn't give up without a fight. She started a shootout, wounding a couple of agents before she was shot. We tried to save her, but she bled out." He gave a defeated sigh. "I'm sorry, Jane. I know you were hoping to talk to her, to get closure."

She nodded, numb somehow. She was conflicted. On one hand she was glad that the woman, who had made her adolescence and much of her adult life hell with her mind games and manipulation, was dead, but on the other, it felt as if death had given Shepherd the last laugh. Now, having Remi's memories as well, she could never make Shepherd answer the questions that lingered. Or have her answer for all the terrible things she had done or had people do.

"Jane…"

"I'm okay."

As Kurt cupped her cheek, she saw the bandage on his arm and the guilt came flooding back. _That's my fault. _

She reached out, gingerly tracing her fingers over the bandage. "Kurt, I'm so sorry I did this. I–"

He shook his head, dismissing her apology. "Hey, it's okay," he soothed. "I got a prescription for antibiotics from the doctor and it's going to be fine."

She averted her eyes, looking down at the floor. Somehow the room felt even colder now.

"You're shivering…" Kurt exclaimed, engulfing her in an embrace.

Jane breathed a weary sigh and pressed her cheek against Kurt's shoulder, closing her eyes. She didn't speak, just leaned into his arms and calming touch as he slowly ran his hand up and down her back. His touch had always had that soothing effect on her, ever since the day they met, and today wasn't an exception.

She gave a quiet sound of protest as Kurt pulled back.

"You're still running a fever," he said with concern as she met his eyes. She felt an inexplicable warmth in her chest at his look. Yes, there was worry, but the look was one he reserved only for her. The love and tenderness shining in there almost brought her to tears.

"I'm fine, Kurt," she said, hoping to convince him.

Every bit the worried husband that he was, he gazed at her, his brow furrowing as he tilted his head slightly. She leaned into his touch as he cupped her cheek. "Maybe you should stay here overnight, just to be sure that it won't spike?"

"No, they already gave me something for the fever and instructions for Tylenol if it persists." Jane sounded almost desperate, even to her own ears. She gave him a pleading look, leaning closer to him. "Kurt, please," she murmured. "I just want to go home". She felt physically and emotionally exhausted, and she could feel a headache approaching. She desperately wanted to go home, crawl into her own bed and fall asleep in her husband's arms.

Kurt held her close, kissing her hair. "Okay. We'll go."

* * *

Kurt stopped the car at the red light, and glanced at Jane in the passenger seat beside him. They were almost home, but the anxiety in his chest felt like it was a snowball rolling downhill, growing every moment. Jane was even more subdued than normal: she was leaning against the headrest and her eyes were closed.

"You okay?" He queried softly as he carefully took her hand into his, intertwining their fingers.

She swallowed thickly, her discomfort obvious. "The headaches are back. It feels like someone is sawing my skull in half."

"Oh, Jane. We'll be home in a couple of minutes." He squeezed her hand before turning his eyes back to the road.

He held on to her hand as he maneuvered the SUV onto their street. The car jerked as he found a curbside spot and parked. A whimpering sound escaped Jane at the sudden movement.

"Sorry." He hated seeing her in pain.

As he turned off the ignition and was about to exit the car to go help Jane out, she turned to him, and muttered, "What if this is it?"

Kurt had allowed to himself to feel a small spark of hope in his heart again today, when Jane had returned to him in spirit as well as in body. That maybe the information they had found on Roman's latest cache would also help them find the cure for ZIP, if it led Patterson to this treatment, as dangerous as it had been. But now, at Jane's fearful question, that spark almost went out: his heart feeling like someone was scrubbing rough sandpaper over his emotions.

"Jane…"

"What if it's too late? What if we don't find the cure in time?"

Now it was Kurt's turn to swallow thickly, as he stamped down on his own rising fear and cupped her cheek gingerly. "You can't think like that. We _will_ find that information, and get that cure."

"Roman didn't. "Jane's tone was desperate as she repeated the fact that he was constantly trying to block out of his consciousness.

A pained sound escaped him, be she continued before he could speak.

"I was already hallucinating, just like he was. You know as well as I do that it's a late onset symptom!" Her voice was rising, her eyes reflecting her fear as she looked at him. "I'm dying, Kurt."

Ignoring the console between them, Kurt pulled her into a fierce hug. "Don't say that." He held her close, kissing her hair as he tried to comfort her. "We _will _find that cure. I promise." He could feel the tension in her body, her ragged, pained breaths as she fought to keep her tears away. He squeezed his own eyes shut, willing the moisture away as he released a shuddering breath. "You don't have to fight this alone. I'm right here."

Jane didn't say anything, merely nodding against him.

He wished he knew what to say to her. He desperately wanted to convince her that they would find the cure. In his mind, there was no there was no other alternative. They had to.

She groaned again.

"Jane…come on, let's get you inside."

* * *

Jane had gotten out of the shower and dressed in a tank top and underwear. She shivered, trying to will the headache away as she left the bathroom. She was about to enter their bedroom, but stopped abruptly when she saw Kurt standing in front of the wardrobe with his back to her as he cautiously removed his shirt. She noticed the bruising forming on his side, and hearing him wince she felt the guilt crash down on her again.

"Kurt…" She stepped up to him, tracing her fingers over the bruises with a light touch. She looked up at him briefly, before averting her eyes to the ground. "I'm so sorry…for everything I did, how I –"

"Shh." His fingers traced her jaw, then caressed her cheek. "I told you, it doesn't matter, Jane."

The tenderness in his voice and the love reflected in his eyes made her chin tremble, as she fought to control her emotions. "_I don't deserve him. I'm such a terrible person." _The guilt kept gnawing at her. It was eating her inside, but it was also like ice on her insides, freezing her, imprisoning her in a desolate vastness.

"It does!" Her voice quivered as she reached up to trace her fingers lightly over the cut on his forehead. "I shot at you…" The searing pain in her heart almost made her gasp, as she continued, her voice barely a whisper. "You could have died in that crash."

"But I didn't." His thumb traced her cheek softly.

Jane averted her eyes from him and stepped away from him, the remorse squeezing her insides.

"Jane…"

She saw the compassion in his look, and it only made her feel more undeserving. "You're too good for someone like me," she said sadly.

"Don't say that. You– "Kurt took a step closer, but she stopped him with a raised hand.

"I love you, Kurt. More than anyone. But the things I did…I lied to you, manipulated you."

He sucked in a pained breath. "You weren't yourself."

"I was plotting to kill you." Jane looked down, horrified at herself.

"I know. But you didn't." Kurt's voice was gentle, understanding almost. He reached for her hand, carefully brushing his thumb across the back of her hand.

She squeezed her eyes shut for a second, wincing at the sharp pain in her head. Pushing the pain away, she went on "I misled you and the team, covering things, blackmailing."

He shook his head sharply, almost as if he did not want to believe it.

"I broke Shepherd out of that black site! I was going to–"

"And we'll explain it to Weitz and the CIA. Jane, please. You weren't yourself." Kurt was pleading with her now, clearly agonizing over her words. "You're sick, it's the poison."

Still, the little voice inside her castigated her mercilessly. "_You're a terrorist. You _know_ what happens to terrorists."_ That realization made her blood run cold, as memories of those three months in the custody of the CIA surfaced. She remembered the pain, heard her own screams, and Keaton's cold and calculating tone as he had her tortured, again and again.

Her heart was pounding, she felt like she couldn't breathe. Her eyes were wide with fear as they met Kurt's.

Her tone was getting more distraught with every word she spoke. "The CIA…what if… What if they're going to take me again? For breaking out Shepherd, for the money, for working with Violet, for–"

"No, Jane." Kurt pulled her tightly against him, and she went willingly now, closing her eyes as she tried to get her racing heart under control. "I won't let that happen. Ever." He murmured into her hair. "Rich and Patterson will come up with an explanation for Weitz that will keep the CIA away."

She lifted her head, gazing at him, being unable to articulate the gratitude and love she felt for him.

He gave her a loving smile, his fingers tracing her temple. He frowned when he noticed her discomfort. "You're still running a fever…and you're in pain."

"It's just a headache," she tried to soothe him, even though her entire body was aching now that the warm shower had reawakened her bruised muscles.

He reached out to pull down the bedcovers as he tenderly tugged at her fingers with his other hand. "Come on, let's go to bed."

Jane sighed, the weariness starting to engulf her. She was unable to hide a wince as her bruised side protested the movement when she turned toward him.

"Jane…" Kurt's voice was full of worry, as he guided her to sit on the side of the bed.

"I'm okay," she protested, as his hand went to lift her tank top.

"Let me see," he said softly, moving her hand away.

"Kurt, it's not–"

"Oh, Jane… I'm sorry," he said remorsefully as he saw her bruised side and back, tracing the bruised area with a light touch. "Do you need a painkiller?"

She shook her head, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. "I just need some sleep."

"Okay. Lie down."

She was about to protest as he gingerly guided her onto the bed and tucked the duvet around her, but looking into his eyes she saw his love and behind it the anguish he tried to keep from her. She understood how important this was to him, now that she was back with him, in mind as well as in body. So, she just smiled at the gesture and closed her eyes.

Then, she heard the rustle of the sheets as he joined her on the bed.

"Come here." He placed a kiss on her neck and pulled her against his chest.

Needing to feel closer still, Jane turned, snuggling deeper into his warm embrace.

Finally, she was home. No mind games, no pretenses. Just the two of them.

"I love you," she whispered against him.

He breathed a shuddering sigh, kissing her forehead tenderly before he tightened his arms around her.

"I love you, too. We'll find that cure and everything's gonna be okay. I promise you."


	7. Worse for Wear

Here's another plot bunny of a drabble that wouldn't leave me alone before I wrote it down. Just some soft Jeller, Jane worrying over our favorite Grumpchkin, who's a little worse for wear.

Thanks again for take2intotheshower for the beta.

I'm tagging this for the blindspothiatusproject BSPromptChallenge, and namely **L- Love.  
**

* * *

**Worse for Wear**

"_Another long and difficult day done."_

That was the thought that first entered Jane's brain as she unlocked the door to their apartment and brushed her hand lightly up and down Kurt's arm as he shuffled past her to go in.

A quiet groan slipped past his lips as he removed his jacket and hung it in the closet. Jane reined in her instinct to go help him, forcing herself to give him some space instead, despite the pain visible on Kurt's face.

Once again, it seemed that Murphy's Law had won the day. Another suspect had decided he didn't want to go to prison, deciding to fight his way out. He had eventually ended up in the hospital with a gunshot wound, but not before he had managed to break two of Kurt's fingers and to bruise or fracture a couple of his ribs.

She watched as he gingerly made his way into the kitchen to get himself a drink. His movements were measured, cautious. He had to resort to using his left hand as the splinted fingers in his right made it difficult to use it.

Coming up behind Kurt, Jane cautiously ran her hand up and down his back, taking in his weary complexion and the deep lines on his face, evidence of the day. "Do you want to eat something?" She asked gently. "We could order in."

Kurt shook his head. "No, thanks. I'm pretty tired, I should probably go to bed."

She leaned in closer, kissing his cheek. "Okay. I'll empty the dryer, and I'll be right there."

Kurt was sitting on the bed as Jane entered; she could see the exhaustion in him, in his body language. He sat there, tired-eyed and slightly slumped, no doubt going over everything that had happened today. She laid her hand on his shoulder, startling him.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."

He shook his head, evidently regretting the movement as he hissed sharply before speaking. "It's okay. I just zoned out for a minute."

Running her hand over his shoulders, she felt the tension in his trembling muscles even through the fabric. She noticed Kurt close his eyes as she kept up the caresses.

Leaning in, she touched her lips to a cut on his temple. "Take off your shirt and lie down. I'll see if I can loosen some of the knots in your shoulders."

Kurt didn't say anything, his eyes shining with love and gratitude as they met hers.

Grunting, he fumbled with the buttons, his discomfort evident to Jane.

"Here, let me help," she said, moving his injured hand to the side, starting to unbutton the shirt.

Kurt gave a tired sigh. "Jane, you don't have to –."

"Yes, I do," she murmured softly. Unfastening the last button, she smiled at him as she pulled one side of the garment over his uninjured side.

He grimaced at the strain of movement as she carefully slid the shirt off him.

Her breath caught in her throat, as she looked at him sitting there, dressed only in his jeans. But this time the reason wasn't lust or desire, but sadness.

Biting her lip, she reached out, running her fingers lightly over the still darkening bruises that covered his side and his torso.

Moisture lined her eyelids as she traced her index finger over a particularly angry looking contusion.

"Oh, Kurt…."

Taking her hand, he brushed his thumb against her knuckles, giving her a loving smile and gazing at her.

"Hey. …This isn't your fault."

Her heart melted at his tender tone. God, she loved him so much.

She cupped his cheek, feeling the stubble against her palm as he closed his eyes and leaned into her touch.

"Come on, lie down."

He grabbed his pillow and gingerly sought out a comfortable position. "Jane, I'm – "

"_Fine," _she finished for him, shaking her head. "I know. Which is why you're favoring your left as you walk, and grimacing at the slightest movement." She ran her hand through his hair and down to the nape of his neck. "At least let me try to loosen your shoulders a little before you go to sleep. It'll be easier for you to breathe sitting up, but your shoulders might not like sleeping like that." Smiling, Jane saw him close his eyes as she brushed her fingers up and down his neck soothingly. "I still need to get the cold pack for your ribs, but let me do this first. Please?"

"Mmhh, okay," he mumbled.

Jane slid her hands to Kurt's left shoulder and started massaging it lightly, only to be met with a low, miserable groan from him.

"Oh, damn. Why do you always find the sore muscles?"

She hummed in reply. "Because I can see how tense you are."

"Point taken."

She was careful not to put too much pressure into her movements, so that she wouldn't aggravate his battered ribs. She kept massaging the muscles, feeling him slowly relax under her touch. A hum escaped him as Jane felt the tension melt away under her touch. A few minutes later she was satisfied that she'd loosened the worst knots so that he'd be more comfortable.

"Okay, there we go. Now I'm going to get that cold pack for your ribs… Kurt?"

Jane smiled: he had fallen asleep. His face was finally relaxed, the tension gone and his breathing was calm.

Not having the heart to wake him to get him under the covers, she took a throw blanket from the chair and tenderly draped it over him before kissing his cheek.

She'd get the cold pack for him later. For now, she'd let him sleep.


	8. Frustrated

**Frustrated**

Jane had retrieved the paper from the mailbox downstairs, and was filling up the coffeemaker when she heard something that rarely happened: Kurt was cursing. Deciding to go see what was wrong, she switched the coffeemaker on and headed towards their bedroom.

She stopped in the doorway, simply observing him for a moment. Kurt, with his arm in a sling, was standing in front of the window facing away from the door. Jane heard him cursing and mumbling under his breath. He was, unsuccessfully, trying to put a shirt on and to button it up, but he wasn't able to pull the other side over his injured shoulder from behind his back.

He had a broken collarbone, courtesy of a reluctant suspect who had turned a simple interview visit into a brawl as he thought the team had come to arrest him. Jane still remembered Kurt's agonized scream as the man had slammed him against the brick wall of the house. She cringed internally at the memory.

"How in the hell can buttoning a shirt…" Kurt kept fumbling with the garment.

Watching her stubborn husband mumble to himself, she couldn't help but to find a tiny bit of humor in the situation. For some reason, she remembered Rich's words about Kurt being an angry little Munchkin. Well he wasn't little, nor was he angry right now, but he was grumpy. Hearing him hiss in pain chased away her smile, and she slowly stepped behind him.

Kurt was so focused at the task that he didn't notice Jane until she slipped her arms around his waist, leaning against his back. He tensed momentarily at the unexpected contact, but relaxed as she pressed her cheek into him, whispering lovingly "I told you, you should've worn the Henley."

He murmured, apparently conceding the point, but didn't clarify.

Jane felt the tension of his muscles, the frustration bubbling under the surface. "You're in pain," she spoke against him in a sad tone, her words more of a statement than a question. "You're due another painkiller, anyway."

She kissed his good shoulder softly before letting go and stepping in front of him. His brow had a deep frown, his discomfort now obvious, but his eyes still had a loving look as they met hers.

"Let me help," she said softly as she nudged him to take a seat on the bed. Taking the button side of the shirt from him, she carefully pulled the other side over his slinged arm. Deftly buttoning up the shirt, she smiled at him. "Kurt, you're staring."

"No, I'm not," he denied, his tone soft. "I'm _gazing_ at my beautiful wife."

Jane felt the heat on her cheeks at the statement: even after all these years together, he still managed to make her blush.

The shirt buttoned, Kurt leaned closer and kissed her. "Thank you."

Her heart swelled at the love she felt for him. Giving him a tender smile, she extended a hand to him. "Come on, you need to eat something and take your meds."


	9. Count Your Blessings

This was my second installment for holidayblindspot. It turned out slightly angstier than I intended (yes, I still think they shrugged off Jane's post-Remi struggles too easily), but it still is Jeller (uninterrupted!) and it does have a happy ending 😊. Timeline is somewhere post-s4 and taking down mad Maddie shortly before Christmas, timeline be damned. All inconsistencies or errors are mine.

Hope you like it!

* * *

**Count Your Blessings**

Jane let out a contented murmur as she slowly woke to another morning with Kurt's arms wrapped securely around her. She snuggled deeper into the warmth of his embrace, not wanting to open her eyes just yet.

"Merry Christmas." Kurt whispered, placing a lazy kiss on her shoulder, when he noticed she was awake. She could hear the smile and happiness in his voice.

"Merry Christmas," she half-mumbled in reply, smiling.

It was Christmas morning, and they were comfortably burrowed under a down duvet of a king-size bed. They had had their Christmas celebration with Bethany a few days before, and Avery was spending Christmas with a friend in Montreal brushing up on her French, so Kurt and Jane had decided to get out of the City for the holidays, heading upstate and to a cabin that belonged to an old friend of Kurt's. His friend lived in Florida, and had no intention to return to freezing temperatures for Christmas, so he was happy to let Kurt and Jane have the cabin when Kurt called him.

Jane was happy they were here, grateful. The year had been a whirlwind to say the least. They were finally starting to get their lives back together again after all the things that had happened. Jane kept her eyes closed, letting her mind wander and counting her blessings: thinking of how lucky she was to be healthy again, to have Kurt and others who loved her. Despite her happiness, her mind still ended up in a dark place. She squeezed her eyes shut tighter, hoping it would drive away the gloomy thoughts.

Kurt nuzzled her neck. "You're quiet."

She smiled at the gesture: she should've known he could tell when something was bothering her.

"What is it?" He asked, his tone worried as he propped himself on his elbow and gently rolled her onto her back so that he could see her face.

Jane sighed, her eyes briefly making contact with his.

"I just…keep thinking back to this whole past year or so that we've had: with Madeline, and taking her down, being on the run, Remi, and the ZIP." Her hear was aching, when she looked at Kurt. "I don't deserve this."

"Jane…"

She gave him a pained look. Even after all this time, after being on the run and doing questionable things to right wrongs, it was the things she had as Remi that the struggled with the most. She had hurt the ones she loved. "No, Kurt….what I did to you and the others, how I lied…I almost –"

Kurt leaned in close, his nose brushing against hers. "Shh…none of that now," he told her softly, his eyes shining with love. "I told you before, that it doesn't matter. And I'll keep telling you that until the end of the world, if I have to." The sincerity in his look made her heart constrict.

He gave her a kiss. "All that matters now, is that you're here."

"But the things I did–."

Kurt brushed his thumb against her lip and shook his head. "Are done. And it doesn't matter anymore." He brought his hand to her cheek, tracing it tenderly. "I almost lost you." He continued; his voice filled with emotion.

"I almost lost you, too." Jane replied, thinking back to the cabin explosion in Iceland.

Kurt nodded softly in acknowledgement. "I know. But we're still here." He gave her a reassuring smile. "And despite all the things you did as Remi, you've done so much to make up for it."

Jane felt a calming warmth in her chest as she gazed into his eyes.

"You helped take down Madeline, taking way more risks than I was comfortable with…", saying the second comment with gentle admonishment. "You fought to come back here, to clear our names." He went on, determined to drag her out of the hole that her mind had sunk. "We all make mistakes. But you can't hang them over your head forever. You are an incredible woman and an incredible wife, Jane."

She thought her heart would burst at his words. She brought her hand to the nape of his neck, caressing it softly before pulling him close for a slow and reverent kiss. When they broke the kiss, she felt like Kurt had succeeded in driving the darkness away once again.

He chuckled as she rolled them over, tucking herself firmly into the warmth of his side again. "There's that smile I love," he murmured as he buried his nose in hair, squeezing her close.

Jane closed her eyes, relaxing into Kurt's soothing touch as he brushed his fingers up and down her side. She had almost fallen back asleep, when Kurt spoke.

"So, given that it's Christmas, what do you want to do today?"

"Pancakes."

"Pancakes? You're starting to sound like Bethany." Kurt laughed. "It's Christmas morning. How about presents?"

"Pancakes first, I'm hungry."

Her reply earned another chuckle from him. "Well, we can't have that." He moved to get up, and kissed her. "Come on, let's go make some pancakes before you starve."


	10. Sleeping Demons

Another little drabble.

My lovely beta and eblonde mentioned something about how all of the events in s 4 must have been affecting Kurt, and the angst he experienced (as if he hasn't had enough, poor Grumpchkin). So, here's my take on how things finally start to catch up to him. Post 4x17.

Heather, thanks for the proofread, again, and helping me to get out of the writer's block.

Let me know what you think.

**Sleeping Demons**

Jane woke up to a feeling of chill. Her comforter had slipped off her shoulders and she had goosebumps on her arm. It took her a second or two to realize that something was missing. The warm, solid form of Kurt that was often pressed against her was not there now. She rolled onto her back, looking towards the bathroom, but there was no light coming from under the door.

"Kurt?" She whispered.

Receiving no reply, she got up and put on her bathrobe to ward off the chill of the apartment. Tiptoeing into the hallway, she noticed a faint light coming from the living room. As she got closer, she saw him.

Kurt was sitting on the couch, wearing only his pajama bottoms. The only light in the room came from the table lamp by the couch, its soft light enough for him, for whatever he was doing.

He had a small box on the coffee table in front of him. Around the box, on the table, were what appeared to be photos: a couple of prints, and a polaroid or two. Next to the box sat Kurt's unopened bottle of Scotch and a glass. He was lost in thought, as he didn't show any signs of noticing her presence when she called out to him. He was holding one photo in his hands, tracing it gingerly with his finger.

As Jane took another step closer her heart shattered; Kurt's shoulders were shaking, tears running down his cheeks. He must have sensed her presence, as he lifted his eyes away from the picture and saw her.

He brought his hand to his face, hastily wiping his tears away with the back of his hand. "Sorry if I woke you." He cleared his throat, avoiding her eyes and glancing away. "Go back to sleep."

Instead, she walked up to him slowly, laying a gentle hand on his back. "Kurt…" His skin was almost cold to her touch, and now, next to him, she could see the sweat glistening on his brow. _A nightmare._

Jane glanced down at the small box and the photos. Most were old photos, their colors faded. Looking at them she realized what they were. Photos from Kurt's childhood. Of Taylor Shaw, and of him. A couple of the photographs were newer, of her. They must be candid shots that Kurt had taken with his phone. One of them was of her sleeping on the same couch that he was now sitting on, and another was of her, sitting out in the park with her sketchbook in her lap, concentratedly drawing something. She had never seen any of the pictures before.

She ran her hand down his arm, caressing the knuckles of his hand still holding the photo. "Childhood photograph?" Her tone was cautious, she saw the pain in Kurt's features.

"Yeah. This was…" Kurt's voice quivered and he cleared his throat again. "This was taken in the summer before Taylor disappeared. Emma took it."

Jane leaned in closer to get a better look. It was a picture of Taylor and Kurt. They were sitting on a blanket in the yard, clearly on a picnic. The little girl had ice cream all over her face and she was laughing at Kurt, who was pointing at a large chocolate muffin in his hand, a large chunk of it already missing as was evident from the chocolate traces on his cheek in the picture.

Jane gave an affectionate chuckle. "I see you liked chocolate then, too." She cast a loving look at Kurt, running her hand through his hair. "It's a nice picture. You both look very happy," she spoke softly to him.

"Yeah, we were." Kurt's reply was wistful, and Jane's heart ached for him. She saw the traces of the tears on his cheeks and felt the tired tension radiating off him.

She sat down next to him on the couch. She guessed the box's contents were something that Kurt hadn't intended for her to see, something still so intensely raw that he had kept the box private. She knew that whatever had caused him to take it out from wherever he kept it must be something that upset him greatly.

She caressed his arm, hoping to soothe his demons. "I've never seen that box," she ventured carefully, hoping to make sure he didn't feel like she was accusing him of something. "What made you take it out?"

He carefully placed the picture back in the box and glanced toward the balcony. "It's nothing." He gave her a quick, tense smile, but avoided eye contact. "I'm sorry I woke you. Go back to bed, I'll be right there."

Jane hesitated for a moment, wondering if she should just drop it. But she still sensed his unease, and wanted to try and help if she could. She reached for his hand and squeezed it gently. "Something upset you."

He gazed at the floor, shaking his head. "It was just a nightmare, it brought up the memories of Taylor again." He tried to dismiss it. "I don't want this on your shoulders, Jane. You've been through enough."

She didn't know if she should be touched or infuriated by his words. "Kurt…for better or for worse, remember?" She asked him rhetorically before continuing softly. "We promised not to keep secrets from each other."

She put her hand on his cheek, caressing the stubble there before gently raising his chin so she could look at his face. Her heart contracted painfully at the sight.

He was biting his lip, tears brimming his eyes again.

"Kurt, please. You've been here for me through all of his; you've been my anchor, my support. Let me carry you for a while."

At her tender plea his resolve broke, and he sobbed. He leaned his arms against his knee, burying his head in his hands.

He spoke quietly amid his tears. "I've been having this recurring nightmare. About that night in the woods. I keep….I keep digging, but I just can't find the right place. I can hear you screaming my name, but at some point I'm not sure if it's you…you or Taylor calling for me." He sobbed again, his tears landing on the floor. "I can hear your screams, and all I know is that I need to save you, both of you. But I fail…I can never find the place." He looked up at her, agonized. "I can't bear to lose you, Jane. I love you so much."

He averted his eyes, but Jane couldn't watch him suffer alone.

Swallowing her own tears, she reached for him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. "Come here," she murmured and pulled him gently into her embrace. "I love you, too," she whispered. Kurt wrapped his arms around her, his breath hitching as he cried into her chest.

"Shh….it's okay," Jane shushed him, soothingly running her hand through his hair. She held him close, whispering to him as his breathing calmed. "I'm right here with you. You found me." She kissed his temple softly. "I'm never going to leave you."

The minutes ticked by slowly as she kept stroking his hair. His eyes were closed when she glanced at him, and she could tell from his breathing that he was starting to fall asleep.

"Kurt?"

"Mhh?"

"Come on, let's go to bed. Otherwise you won't be getting off this couch without a chiropractor."

"Are you calling me old?" He mumbled against her sleepily.

"No, but I know your back is going to be killing you in the morning if you sleep here like this. Come on." She nudged him and got up, before leaning into him as he stood. Leaning on one another, they made their way to the bedroom to hopefully get a few more hours of sleep before another hectic day began.


	11. Intruding

This idea came to me this morning as I woke up, and wouldn't leave me alone before I ficced it. Just a small, soft Jeller moment from Patterson's perspective. Happens shortly after 5x05 (although the ep hasn't even aired yet). Sorry guys, this ep will probably feature in my next few ficlets because of the synopsis of massive angst that seems to be in store. Can't wait to see it!

Heather, thanks again for the proofread!

* * *

**Intruding**

Patterson stared at the piece of information in front of her on the screen. "What…", she muttered to herself. Rich was fiddling with the coffeemaker, making himself another cup of java by the wall. She shook her head, declining his silent offer of coffee. "No, thanks."

She tapped away at the keyboard again, only to stop and sigh in frustration. She knew she needed Weller's opinion on what she had found. But she hadn't seen him since the early hours of the morning, after he had refilled the generator. Given that Tasha was out meeting some old contact of hers, and Jane was injured, she knew probably with Jane in their room.

"I'll be right back," she called out to Rich over her shoulder and got up.

Making her way through their current home, Patterson headed to the accommodation wing of the bunker. She knocked on the door and entered, already talking that she'd found something he should see. But she stopped in her tracks, silenced by the scene in front of her, even before Kurt mouthed a silent "Shh!" at her, holding a finger against his lips for emphasis.

Kurt was sitting on the bed, his back against the wall with Jane asleep in his arms.

"_She looks so frail."_ Patterson couldn't help thinking with sadness, as she watched her friend's features, the cost of the events still visible. Jane's face looked gaunt and pale, save for the dark rings under her eyes, and her torso almost drowned inside the zip-up hoodie of Kurt's she was wrapped in. Her head was pillowed on his chest, her expression now mercifully relaxed and free of the pain that had been a nearly constant companion the past few days after getting shot. Her arm was wrapped tightly around his waist.

Despite their circumstances, Patterson felt a slight smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. Her friends' love and devotion to each other was plain to see.

"What is it, Patterson?" Kurt asked softly, glancing at her briefly before his attention was back on Jane. He pressed his lips into Jane's hair, murmuring something inaudible to her as she shifted in his arms restlessly. She soon settled again as Kurt caressed her back.

It was clear to Patterson from Kurt's demeanor and gestures that even after all these years and hardships, Jane was still his world. Getting uncomfortable, feeling like she had no right to intrude on them, Patterson muttered, "I, uhm, I found something you should see."

Kurt shook his head. His words were directed at her, but his eyes were on his wife, as he lovingly brushed Jane's cheek.

"Can't it wait a couple of hours, while you try to find more information?" He glanced at his friend, his look almost pleading, his arms subconsciously tightening their hold on Jane. "The painkillers finally kicked in and she fell asleep. I don't have the heart to wake her by moving." He gave Jane another loving look, his tone betraying his worry. "She needs to rest."

"_An hour or two won't bring the world crashing down." _Patterson decided. "Okay, Rich and I will keep digging. I'll let you know what we find."

Kurt's eyes shone with gratitude. "Thanks, Patterson."

She smiled, giving Kurt's shin a reassuring pat before leaving the couple alone again.


	12. Stranded

This is my contribution to holidayblindspot and it's fall/autumn theme on Tumblr. Thanks to Indelible Evidence for giving me the nudge to write this and for my beta for her work.

Just a bit of Jeller angst and TLC. I saw a prompt some time ago about the main character coming home absolutely soaked to the bone or being unconscious on the street in a downpour, and it stuck with me, so I filed it away for future use, and here you go. And this_ might_ have been also influenced by one of my favorite X-Files scenes ever. I'm sure those of you who've watched TXF will quickly figure out the scene.

Anyhow, please let me know what you think.

* * *

**Stranded**

Jane was pacing the living room. She glanced out to the balcony, a chilly early November rain was beating on the panes of the glass doors. It had been raining almost for three days straight, and it wasn't supposed to clear up until tomorrow. The weather and darkness did nothing to improve her mood, only made the dread settle in further in her gut.

It was almost two days since they had last heard from Kurt. He had gone undercover with a militia cell, posing as an arms dealer, but he had missed his check-in time. At first Jane had told herself it was because he couldn't steal away long enough to check in. She knew how it could be undercover. As time ticked further and further from the last scheduled check, she told herself his comms must have malfunctioned. Finally, they had dispatched a strike team to the location, but there was no sign of the militia, or Kurt. "_At least they didn't find a body." _

She knew Kurt was far more than capable of holding his own, but she hated that he went undercover without her. It made her feel helpless, and to fear situations just like this. Not knowing where he was, if he was hurt, or even alive, was eating away at her. She was powerless to do anything. The FBI and the State Police were raiding the known locations of the militia, but so far they hadn't found Kurt or the men he was supposed to be meeting. The team had sent her home from the NYO a couple of hours ago to get some rest, promising to call her as soon as they had anything. She was probably getting on their nerves, but the inactivity was driving her crazy. She had asked if she could join one of the teams in the field, but Reade had made the good point that she would reach Kurt faster from the NYO than if she was in the field, and so she stayed in SIOC, monitoring what happened.

Jane sighed, rubbing her temples tiredly. She could feel the beginnings of a headache looming, and realized it must be dehydration. She'd managed to eat a salad at the NYO at Rich's prodding but she'd hardly drunk anything. She grabbed a glass from the cupboard and filled it with cold water, draining it in one go.

Hearing a faint knock at the door, she stamped down on the worst-case scenarios in her head. It could not be the State Police or someone from the NYO letting her know they had found Kurt's body. "_The team would let you know if they heard something." _She leaned her forehead against the door before gathering herself and opening it.

"Kurt!"

Her momentary elation was eclipsed by worry, as her husband practically collapsed against her, his larger frame nearly dead weight in her arms.

Her name escaped him, sounding like something between a groan and a plea.

Supporting his weight, Jane noticed he was soaked to the bone and shivering. He had a darkening bruise on his cheekbone, partially covered by the rough stubble. Steering him inside and nudging the door shut, she spoke quietly to him. "Let's get this jacket off you."

Removing the sodden article of clothing, she tossed it onto the barstool while supporting him. She brushed his cheek tenderly to wipe off some of the dirt stuck there, her alarm only growing when she noticed the heat radiating off his skin. "You're burning up!" She took in his disheveled appearance, noticing various nicks and cuts covering his face and neck, the exhaustion in his slightly slumped posture. "Kurt, what happened?"

"My cover was blown." He glanced at her before refocusing his attention on the balcony. "They somehow found out I was FBI."

His revelation made her blood turn cold. It was the worst-case scenario of any undercover operation.

"I managed to escape into the woods, but they almost caught me more than once."

Kurt managed to take a couple of faltering steps toward the couch, clearly intending to sit down.

"No, no." Jane grabbed his arm, speaking tenderly to him and pulling him close to her again. "Let's get you to bed. You need to rest, and we need to get you out of these wet clothes."

He protested, scanning his surroundings as he let her lead him into the bedroom. "No, I can't. I need to stay alert. They were able to track me almost the entire time that I was on the move, Jane."

She could feel the exhaustion in his body. Despite his protests, he was leaning heavily on her as they made their way to the bedroom. It was almost like hyper-vigilance and exhaustion were waging a battle in his body and his brain.

She rubbed her thumb against the back of his hand she was holding, hoping to calm him. "I'll send the team a message, let them know you're here and ask Reade to post a detail out. Okay?"

He mumbled something unintelligible in reply. The dampness of his button-down shirt seeped into her clothes, and with every step Jane's concern grew. His clothes were dirty and sodden, telling their own sad story of the ordeal Kurt had lived through.

She guided him to sit on the edge of the bed, caressing his stubbly cheek for a moment, needing to reassure herself that he was there. He merely sat there: his eyes were glazed with fever, his shoulders slumped but tense. She could see the tremors in his body. "_Need to get his temperature down."_

Jane pressed her lips against his forehead lightly. "Take the wet clothes off, I'll get you something dry to put on."

As she went to Kurt's dresser to get him a dry pair of sweatpants to wear, she sent a message to the team, just as she promised. Kurt was still sitting on the bed, wearily pulling his jeans off. She heard him wince as he removed his shirt, and the reason for the sharp intake of breath became apparent as she rounded the bed: his side and his torso were covered in gruesome black and reddish bruises, no doubt hiding some broken ribs. Her heart broke at the sight. Those thugs had hurt him, they had beaten him badly before he had gotten away. Then he had spent almost a day exposed to the elements, with the militia chasing him. She could see him out there, injured and freezing as he tried to put distance between himself and his pursuers. She swallowed thickly, the anxiety tearing at her soul. _"Oh, Kurt."_

"Here, put these on." She gave him the article of clothing before going to the bathroom to fill a glass of water and get a painkiller for him. She also grabbed the washcloth, quickly wetting it under the sink, hoping it would ease his discomfort once she got him settled.

He dutifully pulled the sweatpants on, but his eyes kept scanning the darkness beyond the windows, and he was about to get up, just as Jane returned.

She put the glass on the bedside table, placing her hand on his shoulder, carefully stopping his movement. "Hey…no, no, no. Where are you going?" She inquired in a worried tone.

"I told you, the mil –." His over-exhausted mind began to answer, before she interrupted him softly.

"Kurt, you're home. You're safe." She told him, giving him an affectionate look as she guided him to lie down and sat beside him on the edge of the bed.

"But th–" he argued tiredly.

Jane shook her head, feeling almost physical pain in her chest to see him like this. "They can't get to you." She caressed his bruised cheek tenderly. "Everything's okay."

She passed him the glass and the painkiller. "Take this, it'll help you feel better."

He took the medicine and sank back into the pillow, a weary sigh escaping him. His exhaustion was starting to win, but his eyes still held an anxious look.

"Shh…it's okay." She soothed him as she gingerly wiped some of the dirt off his face with the corner of the washcloth before placing it on his brow. "Right now, you need to rest."

Kurt closed his eyes, finally giving in.

"It's okay." Jane whispered as she kept running her hand through his hair. "Just rest."

Soon, his breathing evened as her tender touch lulled him to sleep. They had survived another close call, and she had Kurt safely by her side again.


End file.
